


Fire Emblem Drabble Collection (2)

by LonelyPeony



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Romance, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7057729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyPeony/pseuds/LonelyPeony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Fire Emblem drabbles. This second collection takes from Awakening, Fates, and Path of Radiance / Radiant Dawn. Each chapter features a random word. All characters are from the game (no reader, no OC). I do not own Fire Emblem or any of its characters, nor do I own the artwork presented. But I do own this collection. Themes include: romance, angst, fluff, humor, friendship. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meat

Meat – thick, juicy, warm, spine-tinglingly flavorful meat, roasted to perfection. Crispy, tender roasted chicken enhanced by seasoned fried potatoes diced up into cubes. A flank of filet mignon wrapped in hearty strips of bacon, marinated in red wine. Stuffed thanksgiving turkey drizzled with pools of gravy and served with mashed potatoes. Chicken potpies, grilled brown sugar pork chops, slow cooked pot roast, beef stroganoff, tender ribs that fall off the bone, steaks, meatloaves, teriyaki chicken, pork barbecue, chicken barbecue, beef tenderloin, grilled garlic chicken…  
   
        Stahl was brought out of his reverie by a warm wetness trickling down the corner of his mouth. Hastily wiping it, his head snapped side to side, checking for any witnesses. A sigh of relief escaped his salivating mouth upon realizing that he was alone under a tree – well, not exactly _alone_.  
   
        “Meow!”  
   
        The fluffy, striped, orange head of a kitten popped out from beneath the man’s armor, nuzzling the crook of his neck. Another mewl, and a black cat poked its head out from the other side of his armor. Soon enough, more cats wormed and wiggled their way out from the confining spaces between the green armor.  
   
        Stroking the cats, Stahl was once again lost in his thoughts, uninterrupted by the wave of purrs all around him.  
   
        “If chickens are served as chicken and turkeys are served as turkeys, then why are cows served as beef and pigs as pork (and bacon)?” he pondered aloud. Perhaps it was a bird thing to be called its usual name when being eaten.  
   
        Picking up a spotted grey and white cat that he has dubbed “Speckles,” Stahl stared at its content face as it meowed at him and tried batting his cheek.  
   
        “I wonder what cats would be called if they were turned into meat…” His head tilted in thought. “‘I’m eating cat.’ … Huh doesn’t sound as good as ‘I’m eating chicken.’ Even ‘I’m eating cow’ sounds better.”  
   
        Scrutinizing over his highly intellectual thoughts, Stahl set Speckles down and picked up another one who was, for whatever reason, named Steve. Offering Speckles Steve, Stahl asked, “Speckles, would you care for some cat?” Said cat merely mewled in response, and Steve hissed. He did not fancy being manhandled.  
   
        Stahl gasped. “Oh, right. Sorry, Steve. I forgot you and Speckles have some drama.”  
   
        But even then, offering a cat to eat cat was weird, to say the least. Both Steve and Speckles pawed at Stahl. Their innocent wide eyes, cute meows, soft and cuddly fur, adorable purrs, and the way they nuzzle against him to show their affection by claiming territory over him made Stahl realize that perhaps there was a reason why it sounded awkward to say that one eats ‘cat.’  
   
        He lacked the desire to eat a cat.


	2. Swan

They say that the swan sings a beautiful song just before death. In a sense, the usually silent, serene swan performs its own requiem in lamentation of all the burdens of life. Yet there is a beauty of the tragedy and inevitability of death. It is only in the wake of death that the swan can truly see the value of its life, and its final moments are to be made the most beautiful of all. The swan, though plain and shunned in its early years, becomes graceful and loved in the very end.  
   
        The grave battlefield was hidden from the heavens by clumps of old, green, overgrown trees. Though the sun could not see him, Death walked those very woods and collected the many lives of both sides. It is not a battle, not a war, without Death. Heads rolled, the tree roots drinking the blood of men; this forest lived off of Death. A man whose limbs were bloody stumps cried for his family, whom he could not even picture, for all he could see was a thick redness and then a wave of nothingness. His promise to return to his slain village was fulfilled.  
   
        A soldier lay beneath a great tree. His heavy orange-colored knight’s armor had been impaled one too many times. He decided to rest from battle, lowering his spear to the mossy floor. Blood ran from his forehead like a forked river. In the distance he saw his friends still fighting, and he wondered if they would come help him. But he knew that even if they did, his wounds were too deep to heal. He strained to keep his fluttering eyelids from shutting forever.  
   
        Sweat glued his brown bowl cut hair to his paling skin. His breaths were ragged, and he could hardly move. But despite the discomfort and pain, he felt oddly at peace, resting beneath an old tree like many soldiers before him. He could feel the heat from his body fluctuating and growing colder by the minute. But it didn’t bother him.  
   
        “They…saw me…”  
   
        Though his chest was bleeding, his heart was at ease and content. Hardly ever in his lifetime had he been noticed. The breaking of his curse of an invisible existence was a welcoming experience. Death saw him like no other human could.  
   
        “I wonder if…anyone will notice…I’m gone…”  
   
        A sad smile etched on his face as he felt his body and mind fall into a deep slumber.  
   
        By the time the battle had ended, there were heaps of bodies everywhere. It was a familiar sight to all of the Shepherds. At the realization that one of their own was missing from their ranks, the Shepherds conducted a search.  
   
        “Kellam!” they shouted.  
   
        Silence responded.  
   
        Like the swan that never sings until death, Kellam was noticed only in the presence of death. The boy, who lived a life akin to the ugly duckling, became a swan in death, his body a graceful and peaceful sight to all those who fought alongside him.


	3. Oceans

“Silas! Silas!” Little Corrin ran throughout the fortress corridors to find her best friend. The maids and servants jumped out of the way, nearly spilling their platters and tea. But despite the ruckus she caused, all of the servants smiled at Corrin’s innocence. She carried a picture book with her – a gift from her beloved brother Leo.  
   
        Corrin passed through the servant’s quarters. There, she saw Jakob, who was learning how to make tea from Gunter.  
   
        “This is not adequate enough to serve to Lady Corrin,” she heard Gunter tell the young aspiring butler.  
   
        Jakob scoffed. “How would you know, old man?”  
   
        Gunter sighed. Upon seeing Corrin peeking from the corner, Gunter smiled.  
   
        “Ah! Lady Corrin, what a surprise! Would you like to try some of this tea that Jakob prepared for you?”  
   
        To this, Jakob blushed profusely. “No! Lady Corrin, I-I’m still learning, and this tea would not suit you at all!”  
   
        Gunter smirked.  
   
        Corrin cut to the chase. “Have you seen Silas? I want to show him something!”  
   
        Jakob’s eye twitched as he smiled. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen him, Lady Corrin. But I can always play with you instead. Ow!” The boy scowled at Gunter who had slapped the back of his head for his inappropriate conduct.  
   
        “I believe I saw Silas in the library not too long ago,” Gunter corrected. Corrin’s expression lit up, and she grinned from ear to ear, thanking them before heading to the library.  
   
        Corrin slammed open the large double doors to the library. A startled Silas fell from a ladder, landing with a thud on his bum. The little princess rushed over to her friend, shoving the book she was carrying into his sore arms.  
   
        “Leo gave this to me for my birthday!” she beamed. “Look at it! Look at it!!”  
   
        Silas opened the book and skimmed the pages. It was about oceans, each page with a different painting depicting the body of salt water. Some were of beach sunsets and sunrises, mythical and real oceanic creatures, giant waves…  
   
        “Wow these are pretty pictures,” Silas grinned. There was a slight pang in his heart knowing that this was the closest that Corrin would ever get to the oceans.  
   
        “Is it true that it’s all salty water?” she asked.  
   
        Silas nodded. Suddenly he got an idea.  
   
        “I’ll be right back!” He sprinted out of the room and came back in a few minutes with a large bowl, a cup of dirt, a jug of water, packets of salt, some pebbles, and leafy vegetables.  
   
        Corrin gave Silas a quizzical look, but she was still excited to do something him. Sensing her confusion, he clarified his plan, gesturing for her to sit beside him.  
   
        “Since you can’t go outside, we’ll make our own ocean.”  
   
        Corrin plopped herself down beside him and watched as he dumped the dirt into the bowl. He had her sift the bowl to even out the dirt layer. Next, he added some pebbles to the dirt surface, and Corrin broke up some leafy vegetables to use as, what Silas called, “kelp and seaweed.” Silas gently poured the water to the brim. Corrin watched as the leaves swayed back and forth and the dirt kicked up and mixed with the water. Silas handed her the packets of salt, and she dumped all of the salt into the water.  
   
        “Now let’s mix the salt in so it’s not just in one place,” said Silas. He took Corrin’s hand and together they mixed the salt and water.  
   
        Amazed, Corrin exclaimed, “Can we keep it forever?”  
   
        Silas, unable to resist her adorable and excited self, nodded happily.  
   
        “One of these days when you’re able to leave this place, I’ll take you to see the oceans,” he said.  
   
        “Promise?” she asked.  
   
        “Promise.” He crossed his heart.  
   
        For her, he would go so far as to create an ocean just to see her smile.


	4. Mercy

Corrin approached the kneeling Hoshidan warrior, the fresh grass beneath her bare feet crunching with every step she took. The Nohrians had obliterated Hoshido’s pride that day; there was blood coating the green blades of grass, yet none was left a corpse to rot under the sun.  
   
        The Nohrian princess stopped before the Hoshidan prince, his hay-colored hair shifting as his head tilted to meet the gaze of his traitorous older sister whose Yato blade was just centimeters from completing her mission.  
   
        She remembered her father’s words.  
   
 _“Kill them all. Show no mercy. Or else Silas’s death will have meant nothing!”_  
   
        Her glassy eyes did not water, for there were no more tears left in her body. She saw nothing but the man before her and the desire to take revenge. After all, a little revenge wouldn’t hurt, right? It was only fair that she give the man that which he bestowed upon her best friend.  
   
        “Just do it already. Get it over with, you Nohrian scum! I deserve to die as much as you do.” The prince was too tired to move. His body ached and bled from the battle, and his mind was tormented by those blasted headaches and dark wishes.  
   
        The Yato wavered, ever so slightly grazing the skin of the man she once knew as her brother.  
   
        “I,” she stammered, “I have shown you and your country mercy so many times. But – But you continue to kill my people. _You_! _You_ killed my best friend!” A small tear managed to squeeze its way from her eyes, but it dried before it could run past her cheek.  
   
        He spat at her face, wads of blood trailing from his crude mouth.  
   
        She didn’t flinch.  
   
        Xander stood by off to the side, his hand gripping the helm of his Siegfried. He could easily carry out his father’s order, but he knew that the choice was up to Corrin. No matter what she chose to do, he would respect it.  
   
        Corrin remembered a fragment of her childhood, only when it was too late. “He promised,” she said in a dry yet hurt voice. “He promised to take me to see the oceans… And you took that away from me, Takumi! You took _him_ away from me!”  
   
        “Yeah, I did! But you took my mother! You took my _sister_!” he seethed, coughing up more blood.  
   
        Corrin’s eyes widened with surprise, her vengeful trance ended. _Sister?_ _But both Hinoka and Sakura are alive…_  
   
        Oh.  
   
        He was talking about her.  
   
        The Yato fell to the ground. And so did she.  
   
        She wailed – for Silas, for her mother, for her father, for Hoshido and Nohr, for her siblings, for the dead, for this world full of hate, for Takumi, for herself… She cried.  
   
        Takumi was too weak to push her away, the embrace unwelcomed but still warm to his cold body. His wild eyes of ire welled up with that lost yet familiar feeling of tenderness. Slowly and hesitantly his hand rose to meet her shivering back, completing the circuit. He closed his eyes as he rest in the arms of his sister.  
  
        Their emotional wounds could never be healed. They couldn’t forgive each other today. But perhaps one day they could.  
   
        It all starts with a little mercy.


	5. Dancer

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three…  
   
        Selena sighed, interrupting her friend. Laslow was waltzing by himself, holding an invisible woman in his arms. She would never admit it, but he looked very handsome and graceful.  
   
 _Maybe it’s because he shut up_ , she thought.  
   
        “Ah, my darling Selena, how long have you been standing there?” His footwork stopped, and she noticed him approach her.  
   
        “I was just passing by,” she said, averting her gaze from the rise and fall of his chest.  
   
        Laslow put his hands on his hips and gave a sympathetic look. “Well now, you don’t have to lie. I know you’ve been there for at least ten minutes.”  
   
        Flustered at the truth, Selena yelped, “Then why’d you even ask?!”  
   
        Her partner in crime laughed heartily but didn’t answer. Instead, he offered a hand – an invitation to dance.  
   
        Selena had gotten more comfortable around Laslow over the years, since she had known him since they were kids. She was one of the few who knew about his love for dancing. Watching him dance made her want to dance, not that she would ever tell anyone that.  
   
        She hesitated, but she took his hand nonetheless. A gentle pull, and she was led to the center of the dusty room.  
   
        “Gross. Your hands are sweaty,” she said to alleviate the awkwardness of the situation. The room had been so quiet that she was sure he could hear her racing heartbeat. After all, she could faintly hear his steady one. But perhaps that was because she was searching for the very heart that lulled her.  
   
        “Are they really?” he wondered. “Must be because you’re actually dancing with me.”  
   
        The man in blue led his partner through all of the steps with confidence. Selena kept her head down, partly because she was afraid to step on him (despite how funny his reactions would be) and because she couldn’t stand the tightness in her chest whenever she caught his glance.  
   
        “Chin up, back straight,” he told her, gently lifting her chin. “It’s proper for partners to look at each other while dancing. Or at least look straight.” Laslow’s soft gaze surprised Selena.  
   
        He twirled her, tried new and more complex footwork, and not once did she step on his toes.  
   
        “You’re very good at following my lead. Don’t tell me you’ve been practicing after watching me,” he teased with a wink, switching from a waltz to, well, freeform.  
   
        “Idiot.” Laslow grinned at the sight of her blush that confirmed his suspicions.  
   
        A few words of encouragement allowed Selena to become more confident in following his lead, especially in this routine that she had never seen him practice before.  
   
        “If you’d like to know, I’m improvising this.”  
   
        Selena gaped inwardly at how flawless his dancing was when it came to something he had never practiced and was making up on the spot. She was being twirled, and wrapped close (too close for her liking) to him as they danced.  
   
        She was awfully quiet. Laslow at first frowned at this, but soon realized that Selena was enjoying herself for once without the impulse to win or be good at something. He had to admit, he was a bit nervous with dancing with her, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Seeing her with a small but pleasant smile etched in place of a constant frown gave his heart a resurgence of elation, and he couldn’t help but look at her with love.  
   
        His mind traced back to the old days…and Selena saw sadness in his eyes.  
   
        “I wish my mom could see me now.” He stared past her.  
   
        “She’d be proud.”  
   
        “So would yours.”  
   
        “…Maybe.”  
   
        An idea popped in his head, and he so wished to try it. But for once in his life, he found himself thinking like a schoolgirl in love, and he stumbled with his words.  
   
        “S-Severa.”  
   
        Selena tensed up and whipped her head around towards the door.  
   
        “Relax, no one ever goes up here.”  
   
        The red-haired perfectionist came to a halt. “What are you trying to pull?” An embarrassed but slightly hurt expression arose on her porcelain features. She ripped her hands from his touch.  
   
        “I want you to call me by my real name.” He looked at her with seriousness and resolution.  
   
        “Why?” They were supposed to start a new life here in this other world.  
   
        He gulped and a tinge of pink dusted across his cheeks. “Because…I don’t want to be fake anymore, not when it comes to us.”  
   
        For once, Severa had no witty comeback, no harsh yet playful insults, no furious blush…  
   
        “Inigo.”  
   
        Her voice was small. She was reduced to the young, innocent naïve girl from Ylisse.  
   
        As thanks, she earned a big, genuine smile. And was lifted off the ground by the waist. He spun her in circles, laughing as she hit his shoulders and ordered him to put her down.  
   
        He finally brought her back down to earth. Severa couldn’t tell if he was messing with her feelings; perhaps this was just another one of his stunts, luring girls to dance with him.  
   
        “You should dance with Azura. She’s a dancer,” she said, turning away.  
   
        “And just why would I do that?” His soft tone was serious but filled with love. “You’re the only girl I’ll dance with.”  
   
        Before she could even comprehend what he was saying, Inigo caught her hand and twirled her into his arms, sealing their dance with a kiss.


	6. Family

“Xander!”  
   
        The crown prince turned at the sound of his name. His frown instantly softened into an expression of patience and love at the sight of the source of the voice.  
   
        “Little Princess – oof!”  
   
        Xander lay on his back with Corrin sitting on top of his stomach, her eager eyes grinning at the boy passing through the hallway in the back. Leo paused to see that Corrin had successfully knocked Xander, in full armor, to the ground. The older brother heard Corrin snigger at the sound of Leo groaning about how he lost the bet and now has to give up tomatoes for a whole month.  
   
        “Corrin, may I remind you that you are no longer a child?” he sighed.  
   
        “Hm? Oh.” Corrin realized the compromising position they were in. Xander had tried not to overthink it, but he couldn’t help but consider how his sister (?) was now a full grown ~~attractive~~ woman straddling his waist.  
   
        It seemed that Corrin had very similar thoughts, as she quickly hopped off of him and tried hiding her blush with her bangs.  
   
        “I-If I’m not a child anymore, then stop calling me _Little Princess_ ,” she stuttered, not that she actually didn’t like that term of affection; on the contrary, she thought it was very cute and very… Xander.  
   
        Her brother chuckled. “I’m afraid I cannot do that.”  
   
        “Why not?” The question caught him by surprise, as he had no real answer. He wondered if she would ever find out that they really aren’t related. The thought was both exciting and frightening at the same time. He wondered if they wouldn’t be family anymore if she discovered the truth.  
   
        “Xander?” The sound of her tranquil voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he resumed his smile that was reserved just for her.  
   
        “Because no matter what happens, you’ll always be my little princess,” he said, hoping that answer would suffice.  
   
        “… _Your_ little princess?” She cocked her head a bit in confusion.  
   
 _That sounded more romantic than brotherly_ , he realized awkwardly.  
   
        He coughed. “Ahem! A-And Camilla’s of course.” He had to add that for safe measures, but if Camilla were to find out, she would steal Corrin for herself.  
   
        A candle seemed to light up above Corrin’s precious head. “Ah! So it’s because we’re family and because you’re my big brother!”  
   
        “Yes…precisely.”  
   
        Somehow it seemed like he got family-zoned. He felt a twinge of pain in his chest, but he brushed it off.  
   
        Perhaps there will be a good time in the future to tell her what it really meant. Whether or not she knows the truth, whether or not she gets married, they will always be family.


	7. Pie

Kaze sat beneath a tree, reading the romance novel that Nyx finally and grudgingly lent him. He was slowly starting to understand why people liked them so much; reading about the main character’s struggle with her love interest kept him on his toes when it came to love in the real world. Somehow, he wished for something dramatic and sweet to happen in his life. Perhaps if he tried playing the role of the male lead in the novel…  
   
        “Kaze~!” A sultry voice called out to him out of the blue.  
   
        He already had an inkling to who it was without looking up from his book. As the person got closer, the smell of sweets and the sound of her giggle invaded his senses.  
   
        “Hello, Peri. Fine day, isn’t it?” The ninja finally lay the book down to see the eccentric girl hold out a freshly baked pie to him.  
   
        “It is! That’s why I baked some pie for you – strawberry pie.” She kneeled beside him, catching a glimpse of the romance novel and giggling.  
   
        “Smells delicious. Shall we share it?” He knew she was fishing for compliments. People tend to tell him that he’s too nice.  
   
        Peri nodded and brought out a blanket and some forks for what she considered to be a picnic. Immediately, she stabbed the pie in the center with a fork, grinning at the splatter of “blood” (as she called strawberry juice).  
   
        Kaze smiled weakly. He couldn’t understand her infatuation with gore, but it was somehow cute…in a scary way. He took a bite of the strawberry pie.  
   
        “This…this is amazing!” He ate more. “It was made perfectly. Not too sweet, not too soft.”  
   
        The girl smiled happily and craved more compliments. She loved Kaze’s compliments more than anyone else’s since they were pure and without judgment regarding her more lustful side.  
   
        The leaf-haired ninja noticed that Peri wasn’t eating, nor was she stabbing the pie even more. Sensing something was amiss, he scooped a forkful of pie and held it in front of her mouth.  
   
        Upon seeing her confused features, he smoothly said, “I thought we were supposed to share.” Peri noticed that he avoided eye contact and was slightly embarrassed.  
   
 _Just like in a romance novel_ , she thought.  
   
        She let out a burst of laughter and smiled. Kaze was always one to get her to smile even when she was having a bad day. She clamped her mouth shut with the fork head and pie in her mouth.  
   
        “Mm~ Feed me some more.”  
   
        “Gladly.”  
   
        Peri would never tell him that he’s the only one she bakes for.


	8. Unsettling

It was quite unsettling indeed. For Soren, the sight of laguz made him want to puke. He had always stood by his belief that the “sub-humans are just that – less than human and therefore inferior.” However, due to Ike’s fraternizing with the laguz, Soren had to develop a tolerance for the race. He was no longer allowed to refer to them as _sub-humans_ but by their proper name of _laguz_ , lest he wish to be chastised by his one and only friend. He figured that he could put up with them in passing, but never had he put much thought into spending time with them.  
   
        Neither had Lethe. She detested the beorc, the human scum – they who enslaved her people years ago. Like the cat laguz she was, Lethe was independent and spent much of her time alone or with Mordecai. At times, she would keep Ike company, as he was the first beorc to show her kindness, just as he was the first to show Soren kindness.  
   
        She had never forgotten Soren’s outburst full of hate towards her kind. In fact, she wished to take revenge upon him. Had it not been for Ike and his patience, Lethe would have torn Soren to pieces by now. Or so she thought. Soren, on the other hand, would have killed her if Ike had not sat him down for a talk.  
   
        It’s a miracle, really, that neither has wrung the other’s throat by now, and it was all thanks to Ike, keeper of peace.  
   
        But it seemed like chaos was about to strike once Mist happened to see Soren and Lethe napping together in the shade.  
   
        Soren sat beneath a tree, a pile of thick books beside him. The evening sky made it hard for Soren to read, but he stayed there nonetheless; he was not one for banter during supper, unless it was with Ike. But even then, Ike enjoyed conversing with everyone else, so there really was no point for Soren to get supper.  
   
        The soft patter of approaching footsteps drew his attention away from his beloved tactician’s book, not that he could very well see which line he was on now. Expecting to see Ike, Soren’s grim expression fell even more when he realized that it was none other than Lethe, the very girl who he told off when they first met, who was coming towards him with a plate of roasted fish.  
   
        “It’s dinnertime,” she said, not daring to nudge one of his shoes.  
   
        “Indeed it is.”  
   
        “Not going to eat?” She offered him the plate. When he didn’t take it, she commented, “No wonder you’re so skinny.”  
   
        Soren ignored her. He couldn’t be bothered to deal with another person, much less a laguz. Besides, what’s it to her whether or not she eats with everyone? It’s not like they’ll be nice to him. The other laguz stay away from him and pretend he doesn’t exist, and as for the humans, well, he doesn’t want them to find out about what he really is. The laguz already know, for they can smell it on him. The last time a human discovered his true identity, he was nearly killed.  
   
        “Why are you still here?” he sighed, seeing that she didn’t leave. He was also confused, since it’s unnatural for laguz to talk to one such as him.  
   
        “Ike said you’re actually a really nice guy, despite your sharp tongue,” she shrugged. She never really cared for Soren, but there was something about his persistent loneliness and treatment that made her strangely empathetic towards this racist man.  
   
        Lethe sat down, the column of books dividing them. “At least _I_ made an effort to get along with and understand the beorc.” This earned her a glare. It was similar to what Ike had told him days before. “They’re…interesting. Some of their customs are different and unusual, but others I like.”  
   
        “Good for you,” the mage grunted.  
   
        “Tell me,” Lethe continued, her orange cat ears twitching and tail flickering, “why is it that you side with those who hate you?”  
   
        Soren closed his book, his brow furrowing in frustration. He had never really thought of what she was asking. It was actually a good question…  
   
        “No matter what side I am on, I will be an outcast. What difference does it make?” he said.  
   
        “That’s true,” she conceded. She bit into the fish and chewed her dinner. Soren watched as she did so, and he thought it rather fitting that a cat laguz should eat fish as a cat would. He never really paid any attention to others when everyone came together to eat. So the sight of this, along with her bell “collar” made him chuckle a bit.  
   
        Ears perked to the sound of a low chuckle, Lethe turned and stared at him as if to ask “What?”  
   
        “I was just thinking how very fitting it is for a cat to be eating fish. Do you also like chasing lights and being scratched behind the ear?” he smirked.  
   
        Lethe blushed. “N-No, I don’t!” She mumbled incoherent grumbles about how stupid Soren was. She had to admit, though, that he was very witty with his teasing, though they mostly sound like insults and are highly likely meant to be.  
   
        She coughed. “Anyway, laguz aren’t to be taken so lightly like mere kitty cats,” she lectured. “Although…I’m not very fond of getting soaked.”  
   
        “Indeed. As much as I hate to admit it, you are a formidable warrior. I once got scratched by a cat on the street and, boy, was that scary.” There was a strangely playful glint in his eyes.  
   
        “Why you-!” she hissed, nearly throwing her half-eaten fish at him.  
   
        He laughed.  
   
        Lethe stopped cursing him. She blinked, her wide eyes confused but somewhat enjoying the scene before her. She had never heard him laugh before; he had always seemed so serious. She couldn’t tell if he was laughing because he saw her as stupid and incompetent, saw himself as superior, or if he genuinely enjoyed her presence. Lethe figured that it was one of the latters.  
   
 _How unsettling_ , she thought _. He’s laughing_ at _me_.  
   
        She sighed, angered. “All right, all right. You think I’m lesser than human. I get it.”  
   
        Soren’s smirk faltered, turning into a frown. He looked away. “You’re not…less than human.”  
   
        Surprised, Lethe felt her cheeks warm up. Her tail fluffed up, as well.  
   
        Continuing, Soren said with downcast red eyes, “If anything, I’m the one that is sub-human.” He had no idea why he was even sharing something so sensitive with someone he hardly knew. Only Ike knew of his insecurities.  
   
        “How very human of you to say that,” the laguz said firmly, her feline gaze set on the mark of the Branded upon his forehead. “How disappointing. So what if you’re not fully human or fully laguz? All that would change is how you look on the outside. You’re still Soren, the genius tactician. You are a physical bridge between the two races. Take some pride in that! The gods didn’t make multiple races to pit them up against each other.”  
   
        Soren was lost in thought after her words. Perhaps she was right. Or she was completely wrong. In a society that judged on appearances and blood, his identity was encompassed by what his parents were. No one ever cared about who he really is…except Ike…and now Lethe.  
   
        Lethe sifted through the books, all of which were different. Intrigued, she picked up an old book on Gallian warfare. Thanks to her animalistic night vision, she could easily read in the dark. Soren scoffed, and Lethe replied with something along the lines of “Don’t you wish you were a laguz now?” to which he smirked and told her to read it aloud to him.  
   
        And so she did, her voice soothing yet excited, lulling him to sleep in the dead of night. When she realized that he was asleep, she gave a sympathetic smile, moved closer to him, and fell asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. Anyone could see that it was similar to a cat and her owner.  
   
        And it was unsettling.


	9. Conqueror

“Feast your eyes upon me, Odin Dark the Conqueror!”  
   
        Odin dramatically extended his hand to the rows of children clapping and cheering for him. A cloud of dark magic surrounded the kids, all of whom were in awe. Charitable as he was, Odin volunteered to “perform” for a child’s party. How this all happened, no one will ever know except for Odin and the old lady who caught him reciting something akin to a soliloquy while shopping for tomatoes for Lord Leo.  
   
        Selena rolled her eyes and Laslow chortled. They had been dragged along as Odin’s entourage, though they were more like decorative objects for the children; Selena was covered in sparkles and confetti and horribly done make-up, and Laslow was adorned with flowers and…little girls. He was popular with girls of all ages, from babies to grannies.  
   
        “Listen up, kids! I, Odin Dark the Conqueror, have conquered the seven seas and many a country. Ha ha ha!” He posed like a medal-winning athlete.  
   
        “But you didn’t conquer Nohr! King Garon won’t let you.” A child in the front stuck his tongue out.  
   
        “N-No, well…” Odin’s face fell.  
   
        “Yeah! If you’re a conqueror, why isn’t Hoshido dead yet?” Another one in the back huffed.  
   
        “L-Listen – ”  
   
        “He’s a fake!”  
   
        Chaos ensued. Kids were crying everywhere, knowing they had all been duped. Odin tried regrouping the kids, but they all went to Selena and Laslow for comfort. In fact, all of the boys went to the overwhelmed Selena and all of the girls wanted a hug from the softhearted Laslow.  
   
        They were conquerors of a different sort – conquerors of hearts.


	10. Axe

It was the perfect day for a pleasant stroll; the sun was shining brightly, the white puffs of clouds were few, birds of all colors were chirping like the ides of March, flowers in full bloom… Arthur gazed up at the brilliant soft sky, grinning like the fool he was, his red, white, and blue outfit calling the attention of all said birds and their unfortunate bowel movements.  
   
        “A lovely day indeed!”  
   
        Today, the fighter saved an old woman from falling on her face, gave ice cream to a crying toddler, helped Mozu plant some crops, and assisted Lady Elise in some play time. But he did not stop to think about how he had caught on fire twice and was chased by an angry pack of rabid dogs.  
   
        As he strolled along the path, he heard a _meow!_ from somewhere above.  
   
        Stopping dead in his tracks, he exclaimed, “Goodness me! Is it raining cats and dogs?”  
   
        Upon looking up, Arthur found a cat stranded at the top of a tree as three stories tall.  
   
        “Ah! You poor fellow, in a bind, eh? Never fear; Justice is here!” Arthur ran at the tree, climbing its trunk. But he soon realized that there were three wasp nests and a couple of beehives right above his golden head.  
   
        Gasping, he quickly made his way down. Where did those even come from? He swore they weren’t there before he started climbing. Regardless, he needed a way to get that cat back to the earth. Perhaps there was a way…  
   
        “Aha!” He ran to the fortress and back, bringing with him his trusty steel axe.  
   
        “Now, I’ll just chop down this tree, and the kitty will be safe!” He nodded to himself with great confidence. “Here we go!”  
   
        But before he could make the first cut into the dense bark, Arthur was caught off guard.  
   
        “Dad, what are you doing?”  
   
        Arthur turned around at the sound of his son’s voice.  
   
        “Percy! My boy! Um – and Ace.” Arthur smiled hesitantly at his son’s dragon companion. He remembered that he didn’t exactly peacefully find the Ace when he was just a dragon egg; no, he stole the egg from two very furious and violent dragons. “You’re just in time!”  
   
        “For what?” the young boy asked.  
   
        “Why, for Justice!” Arthur cheered.  
   
        Percy’s eyes lit up, and he grinned. “Does this mean I get to be your sidekick?”  
   
        Arthur patted Percy’s now disheveled hair and chuckled. “Of course, kiddo. There’s a damsel – er, cat – in distress up there. Now, help me cut this tree down so we can save it.”  
   
        Percy frowned. “Ace can help me reach the cat without you having to cut the tree down. I don’t think the tree would like it if you cut it down.”  
   
        Arthur thought long and hard at Percy’s words. It was true; he would be hurting the tree if he were to try saving the cat using his method. But if they were to go with Percy’s way, then…what would there be left for Arthur and his heroic weapon to do?  
   
        “Dad, outside of the battlefield, our axes won’t solve problems,” Percy reasoned.  
   
        “I-I suppose that’s true.”  
   
        Percy gave a thumbs-up to his father and mounted Ace. The wyvern flew up to the top of the tree, and in a matter of seconds, Percy returned to the ground holding a cat in his arms.  
   
        “How’s that for a sidekick, Dad?” He beamed.  
   
        “Son, you are no sidekick. You are a full-fledged hero! It is I who was the sidekick this time around.” Arthur took a closer look at the cat. “Good thing I didn’t use my axe to cut the tree down, huh.”  
   
        The cat hissed.  
   
 _Slash!_  
   
        Percy took his worn-out and beaten father home to put medicine on the scratches across his still smiling face.  
   
        “A lovely day indeed! Justice prevails!”


End file.
